


The Puppet Masters

by EzraStardust



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: F/M, M/M, What Can I Say?, possessed!AU, supernatural stories are always fun :D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraStardust/pseuds/EzraStardust
Summary: When Clopin Trouillefou is transported to the galaxy far far away in search of his soulmate, Mother Talzin finds that she can put his devotion to good use. In a series of unsettling events, the lives of Feral, his brothers and even the Jedi are changed as a sinister plot unfolds around them...





	1. Prologue

Clopin Trouillefou found himself standing in the middle of a desolate landscape. He was surrounded by a thick red fog. Everything was eerily quiet. Bone-like structures that might have been trees hung overhead, making him feel like he was inside the ribcage of the corpse of some gigantic monster. It didn’t help that a number of pear-shaped cocoons were hanging from the curved ‘branches’ and looked almost like human flesh. The sight of Dathomir utterly disturbed and unsettled him. 

His mind went back to the familiar streets of Medieval Paris, where he had first met Feral at the Festival of Fools. The young Zabrak had been performing in a freak show under the title of The Man From The Moon. On one particular occasion, the freak show’s arrival had coincided with the event that Clopin lovingly called Topsy Turvy Day. He hadn’t believed in love at first sight until he saw Feral. The young man was unlike anyone Clopin had ever met before. He seemed both younger and older than his years; wise and yet innocent. Feral had fallen for Clopin as well and after they both took refuge in the Court of Miracles, they knew that they were soulmates.

* * *

 

Flashback

* * *

 

“How did you come here, Feral?” Clopin asked him. “I’m not entirely sure,” Feral replied. “It happened after I received an amulet from the leader of my people, Brother Viscus. He told me that he’d sensed my life taking an unexpected turn and that I should keep the amulet with me at all costs to stop evil from reaching me. He didn’t say anything about it teleporting me to other worlds, though,” He laughed in spite of himself. “C’est la vie!” Clopin giggled. 

“I hope I can get back,” Feral murmured thoughtfully. “Why not stay here?” Clopin lovingly stroked Feral’s cheek. Feral blushed a little. “Don’t get me wrong, Clopin, I love every moment I spend with you. But my people need me. Wait a second,” His eyes lit up. “Maybe you can use the amulet to visit me!” “How? You need it to get back home,” Clopin pointed out. Feral held up the small object, a disc-shaped piece of metal similar in design to a yin-yang. He carefully separated the two parts, giving one to Clopin. “Now we can stay together in both your world and mine,” he said with a smile.

* * *

 

End of flashback

* * *

 

Clopin looked down at the yin-yang half in his hand. At first, when he’d arrived on Dathomir, he thought the amulet had lost its bearings. Surely, someone so pure and gentle as Feral couldn’t come from a hellish world like this. But as he began to grow used to his macabre surroundings, the jester heard footsteps that weren’t his own. At least there was one sign of life in this empty world. But who, or what, was it? Friend or foe? Human or animal? Clopin’s eyes darted this way and that. Normally, he would just play it cool and try to work his way around the problem, but he was on a completely different planet and knew nothing of it other than it looked like a strange fever dream he’d had a few weeks ago.

“Hello?” He called uncertainly, a little embarrassed by how meek he sounded. “Hello,” A high female voice with a whispery quality answered him. All of a sudden, Clopin found himself surrounded by women with unusually pale skin, dressed entirely in red. Some of them wore hoods, others wore masks concealing their faces, but all of them were pointing bows and arrows at him. Still trying to stay calm, Clopin gave the Nightsisters a suave smile. “Ah, ladies, are any of you willing to help a lost traveller?” He asked in a sweet, inviting tone. “What is your business here, stranger?” Demanded a Nightsister. 

“I’ve come here looking for a young man named Feral Opress,” Clopin replied. “Do any of you know him? If so, can you help me find him?” “Maybe you could help us,” replied the Sister, then to her fellow witches: “Let’s take him!” Two Nightsisters seized Clopin by the wrists in a grip that was like steel. Clopin’s voice deserted him and as the witches escorted him hurriedly across Dathomir, he could only wonder what they were planning to do to him.


	2. A Stolen Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his search for Feral, Clopin loses his most precious possession; his identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs evilly* Happy Halloween, everyone! :D

The pace of the Nightsisters had quickened now and as he was forced to run across the desolate plains, Clopin Trouillefou could make out the silhouette of a building in the mist. A large stone doorway was carved into the side of a cliff and resembled a wide gaping mouth. The man felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the Nightsisters escorted him inside. Instantly, the light vanished and he found himself in pitch black, with only the sound of pattering footsteps surrounding him. “Where are you taking me?” He finally found his voice, before his captors shushed him as if afraid of being overheard. 

Presently, he saw the faint glow of golden lights up ahead, but this did little to alleviate the sinister atmosphere. During this time, however, Clopin had devised an escape plan and so far, it was playing out perfectly. All he had to do was play pretend until the time was right. And when that happened, boom! They wouldn’t know what hit them! A tall individual with flowing hair, wearing an elaborate scarlet dress, was waiting at a stone table, gazing into a fiery crystal ball. She looked up as the Nightsisters entered, dropping Clopin onto the cold stone floor. 

“We found the stranger on our borders, Mother,” said one of them, who was dressed in black and had a deeper voice than the others. “He has come here seeking one of your sons, Fe-” “Feral Opress,” Mother Talzin spoke, her voice sounding like numerous ones whispering in unison. “You know his name, I see,” said Clopin thoughtfully. “And yours, Clopin Trouillefou,” replied the witch. Clopin hadn’t anticipated this and his heart missed a beat. “I was expected, then?” he asked. “Of course,” Mother Talzin replied. “I saw you even before you came to us. Your devotion to my youngest son has not gone unnoticed. The bond you share will be most useful to me.”

“I see,” said Clopin slowly. This was the moment. It was now or never. “So you’re Feral’s mother? I can see the resemblance. You, however, won’t ever see ME again!” With that, he grabbed a vial of red liquid from inside his pocket and threw it on the ground, sending a huge plume of smoke flying up. In the confusion, he ran for it, shouting “Au revoir, mesdames!” Just as Clopin was beginning to reach the entrance of the cave, however, a green mist began swirling around him and Mother Talzin materialised out of thin air right in front of him! Clopin, unable to stop in time, ran straight into her arms. “Well, that was certainly very clever, Monsieur Trouillefou,” Smirked the witch. “But not clever enough.” 

“Stop! Stop! Let go of me!” Clopin’s terror became blatantly obvious as the Nightsisters dragged him, kicking and struggling, towards an altar. “I don't care what you do to me, but please! Please! Whatever you do, don’t hurt Feral!” Clopin begged on the verge of tears. “Oh, we won’t,” Talzin’s voice was as calm as ever. “I wouldn’t dream of hurting my son. You, on the other hand, well that’s a different story.” Twisting and turning, Clopin was held down on the stone altar by strong arms, desperately trying to wriggle away. Talzin slowly reached into one of his pockets and extracted that small hand puppet, made entirely from felt and painted wood. Clopin, hardly able to breathe in terror, watched as Talzin slowly turned the puppet over in her hands. 

“You’re a puppet master, I see,” She murmured. “Well, I’m sure you can play the perfect part in my little show,” Talzin gently pressed her forefinger against the puppet’s forehead and Clopin’s world went black. Approaching the head of the altar, Talzin began chanting, the Nightsisters joining in. As Talzin began moving her hands around in a series of strange motions, Clopin’s body lifted up. Talzin brought her hands together and quickly pulled them apart as if tearing open a parcel. The man’s chest ripped open with a horrible shredding sound. A green light poured from within. Clopin’s agonised screaming was just audible over the chanting. 

Lifting up the puppet, Talzin transformed it into a green mist and lowered it into Clopin’s chest. She then sealed the wound and it looked as though nothing had happened. Clopin stopped screaming as his entire body became engulfed, swamped in green light. Finally, the ritual was complete. Talzin lowered Clopin’s body back onto the altar. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep, almost as though he was asleep. Talzin pressed her finger against his forehead. Clopin Trouillefou slowly opened his eyes, which glowed with a soft green light. “So, the puppet master becomes the puppet himself,” Talzin smiled. “Are you ready to do my bidding?” Clopin spoke in a voice that wasn’t his own. “Yes, Mother.”


End file.
